Dare
by katekarson
Summary: The revamped version of my older story, 'Can You, Can't You', based around a dare game the Gryffindors play in the common room.  Lily/James and later some Sirius/Remus.


Both times, it started with a paper aeroplane.

Sirius claimed to have invented it. In fifth year, he'd thrown a paper aeroplane at James's head in the middle of History of Magic daring him to get up for more parchment and dance behind Professor Binns. Naturally, James had risen to the task – and it had sparked a dare war that turned into something the entire common room was in on. Even in their seventh year there were a handful of paper aeroplanes just flitting around the roof of the common room ready to be snatched up when anybody got bored.

The deal had always been the same. You touch it, you take it – no ifs or buts. Unfortunately for Lily Evans, the day the charms stopped working got no reprieve from this rule; and also unfortunately for Lily Evans, she just happened to be the only one sitting directly underneath one of the aeroplanes when it fell.

For James Potter, it felt like Christmas. Approaching her amidst the catcalling – noticeably peppered with a 'rather you than me' sentiment – and the cheering, he wore a smile like the Cheshire Cat, stretched across that handsome face of his even when she gave him her most reproachful look.

"I don't think so, Potter."

He perched on the arm of her chair, watching as Remus began to charm the rest of them back up, and shook his head. "Can't change the rules for one person, can we? Even for the Head Girl. Even if I'm Head Boy."

"Well, you're going to have to," she said simply, drawing her fingers across the main folds of the plane to sort them out; make them neater. "I've never played it before, and I don't intend to start playing it now. I'd say sorry, but I'm not."

"At least have a look at it?"

Lily opened her book again, though she knew doing so wouldn't put him off the scent. Sure enough, he tipped it down with a fingertip to get her attention again – it seemed she wasn't the only one willing to try old and tired tricks. "Puppy-dog eyes don't work on me, Potter; you know that. Looking at it isn't going to make a difference. It's juvenile and silly, and I'm not going to do it."

Sensing defeat, James looked over at Sirius, who in turn prodded Marlene in the shoulder. "Marlene," he whined, somehow still with his usual poise and charm. Sirius might not have been on good terms with his parents, but anybody could see he had a lot to thank them for – genetically speaking, at least. The Black family name came accompanied with a very particular image, just like 'Weasley' or 'Malfoy', and that image was sleek, angular and dark like the name. Sirius wore a bit more colour in his skin than his relations thanks to the time he spent outside on the Quidditch pitch, but in principle he was the same. It was in the way he carried himself, too; the regal, cocksure attitude that managed to convince people Sirius was as good as he thought he was. In James's opinion, loading all that luck into one person just wasn't fair – especially when that person continued on to be able to whine like a child and still get a girl like Marlene McKinnon's lips to twist into an amused smile.

James might have hated him, but it was _Sirius_, and they were brothers in every which way; disregarding that little problem of biology, of course.

Thankfully, though, Marlene was onside – and she, as one of Lily's best friends, was a powerful ally to win over. "Don't be so boring, petal; give it a look."

After a moment's withering glance, Lily sighed and began to unfold it. "You're lucky we don't share a dorm anymore, McKinnon."

Sirius smirked and squeezed into the seat beside Marlene, draping his arm around her. "I'd protect you, Lena." Of course, it was thrown off seconds later to the sound of Sirius's usual infectious barking laugh. "Or not."

"Not," she said primly, smirking as she fixed her eyes on Lily. Marlene was a self-described feminist, sporting a short, sexy French haircut and a disproportionate amount of pride for the achievements of the movement with which she had no real involvement. All that aside, though, Marlene was a great girl; well-liked by her fellow Gryffindors, well sought-after by the boys and not a slave to any of them – not even Sirius, who James was aware she'd been linked to a couple of times. She kissed his cheek anyhow, lifting her legs into his lap; naturally, Sirius was happy to sit like that. He always seemed happier when his personal space was being invaded than when it wasn't.

Lily sighed, reaching across to borrow James's glasses to read the dare, feigning disinterest. He grinned and allowed her, leaning over her to read it as well, and took it upon himself to broadcast it to the rest of the common room. Was it arrogant to assume they cared? Maybe, but it wasn't a false assumption by anybody's standards.

"Do you trust your friends?" he read, and was suddenly fairly glad it wasn't him that had drawn this dare. He trusted his boys with his life, but boys played rough when it came to dares. Lily was lucky; the girls that played tended to be much kinder. "Merlin help you if you don't – have the nearest player choose one of your friends, and then allow that friend to style you. Your dare is to wear this makeover to your next class or mealtime."

She gave him a look. "Forget it. You'd pick Sirius or yourself and I'd end up in minimal fabric or with lipstick all over my face."

"Actually," he said, "I was going to pick Marlene."

Sirius scoffed, and James sensed he'd have punched his arm if he wasn't comfortably wrapped up with a girl. "Don't go easy on her or anything, will you, Prongs?" The rest of the small crowd seemed to agree with this sentiment, but really he didn't have any option. Once she started playing, she wouldn't stop; nobody ever did – but she certainly wouldn't _start _playing if he went too hard on her.

"Marlene?" she repeated, deadpan. "Really, Potter?"

"I swear to God," Sirius said, musing, "I would have so much fun with this one. For saying it's so tame."

Lily looked at James curiously, as if to search for the catch. After a few moments, she couldn't find one, and sighed, passing James's glasses back. "Alright," she said, defeated. "If it'll call you off, then fine. I'll let Marlene… make me up."

Marlene grinned, wriggling up from Sirius's lap. "I'm not going to be as nice as you think," she warned her, "but you can't back out now. You won't hate it, though; I promise that at least."

"Wasted opportunity," Sirius repeated. "You've literally cut off your own balls to appease your beloved ginger."

Remus cleared his throat, chiming in for the first time in a while. "Actually," he said, not looking up from his homework, "he hasn't. Not 'literally', at least, Sirius."

Thankfully, the ensuing physical tousle over that correction moved the common room's attention away from Lily and her dare, leaving Marlene to sit down on the table in front of Lily, legs crossed. "You've never let me do this before," she said, "but I'm going to cut your hair."

James's jaw dropped as much as Lily's did as he heard this, picturing Lily's lovely red hair in the same sharp bob that Marlene wore. It was nice hair, but it wasn't _Lily_ hair – he doubted if anything could put him off this girl after so many years being into her, but this haircut would be a bloody good start. Thankfully, Lily spoke up before he had to; after all, it'd be more than a little bit creepy to campaign for someone else's hair. It wasn't his property. _Not yet, anyway_, said a voice in the back of his head. Determined little voice.

"No offence, Marlene, but…"

"No, silly; I'm not going to give you mine. You'd never carry it off," she said, smirking playfully. "No. I just want to take a few inches off. It's too long like that. You'll suit it better."

"Do I have to?"

Marlene tutted, standing to go to her dormitory for the scissors – thankfully, she wasn't as ditsy as people tended to assume, and recognised that it wasn't exactly the safest idea to magically summon a pair of scissors. "Trust me," she called over her shoulder.

"You should," James said, struggling with the urge to touch her hair. "It'd look alright, I reckon."

"Oh, Potter; you charmer. You know it's every girl's dream to look 'alright'."

He grinned apologetically, used to her sarcasm. James was clever, but he knew from experience that Lily could have him over in an argument every time. She'd give him a run for his money in a duel, too; really, he just had to concede that she was _good_, in more ways than one. Originally he'd just seen red hair and gone doe-eyed – no pun intended – but these days he recognised that his younger self had made an excellent choice. Far from being the wallflower her name inferred, Lily was dry-humoured, bright and confident; slightly withdrawn from the general day-to-day banter in the common room, but she was more than capable of handling it when it came her way. Apparently she was prone to crying, but James had never seen it – and a bit of emotional vulnerability in a person wasn't so much of a bad thing. To him, she was perfect. "Sorry. You know what I mean."

"Yes. You mean having a more modern haircut would encourage you to objectify me."

"Oh, don't _you_ start," he said, dodging the light smack she aimed at his arm. "Sorry! Sorry."

She threw him a look, but there was a noticeable sparkle in it. Sometimes James thought she was just distant with him because she liked the attention; couldn't blame her, really, because he was a bit of an ego fiend himself. All the same, it frustrated him. He wanted to take hold of her and make her see that he wasn't something to toy around with, but then the next minute that spark disappeared, and he thought he must be seeing things. Lily Evans wasn't cruel. Not that cruel, anyway.

Marlene reappeared with a make-up bag and a pair of scissors; suddenly she looked a lot more professional, and James suspected she'd redone her make-up to produce that effect while she was up there. Girls were a mystery – but the point was, she looked like she knew what she was doing. Then again, it wasn't his hair she was about to cut.

"Chin up, petal," she said. And give Lily her dues; she did stick her chin up, without batting an eyelid.

"If you screw my hair up," she warned good-naturedly, "you will regret it."

Ah. That'd be why.

Marlene wrinkled her nose in that way Sirius liked. "I won't screw it up. Sit forward, okay?"

James wasn't sure he'd be allowed to stick around for this process, but neither of them seemed to remember he was there, so he took the opportunity to watch – just in case he needed to jump to her defence or something, of course. It wasn't that he was actually interested in haircuts. Even so, it was nice watching her nose twitch, ticklish under the snipped bits of her fringe.

"Potter," she said after a while, "I know you're a fairly odd person anyway, but this is a particularly strange fetish."

"Just interested," he said defensively, turning his gaze to other things in an attempt to recover some of his ego. It was a strange thing, really; he'd known, watching her, that she would notice and comment on it, but it didn't make it any less embarrassing to be caught. For the sake of keeping track of what was going on around him, he noted that Sirius and Remus had actually stopped play-fighting now. Sirius was lounging over the table, muttering things – probably about the reasons he hadn't done his own homework – that Moony was obviously only half-listening to, jotting down references with his eyes flicking between his parchment and the textbooks he was using. Was it safe to look back now? "That's all."

"I'm sure," Lily said, but soon quietened when Marlene shushed her. Normally Lily would roll her eyes and keep talking if anybody tried to shush her, but he supposed she wasn't going to go for the usual 'ask politely' angle when the person she'd be saying it to had such power over her appearance.

Ten minutes later, though, and Marlene had finished. She blew the hair gently from Lily's face, earning a reproachful look, and pulled a mirror out of her bag. "See? I'm not an idiot, after all."

James had to agree. The colour of Lily's hair had always allowed her to get away with the long, moderately style-less way she wore it – it looked ethereal, in a way, and it merited not being meticulously looked after, or particularly modern. What Marlene had done didn't spoil that, but it had certainly freshened her up. Lily's hair now reached her shoulders and went no further; not short, of course, in way Marlene's was, but James had never seen it that length before. He didn't suppose Lily had either. She had parted it in the middle, as was apparently the fashion, and it was curled under slightly just below her jaw.

For the time, it was modern. For James, it was beautiful. He grinned and nodded at Marlene, impressed. "Bloody brilliant, that."

Lily flushed slightly, which made James wonder if she was going to accept one of his compliments for the first time ever; that façade soon faded. "Shut up, Potter," she said quietly – not meanly, but more distracted by checking Marlene's work than anything else. A few moments later, though, she agreed with him – indirectly, at least. "Yes; it's lovely. Thank you, Lena."

"Just 'lovely'? After all that effort?"

"Sorry. It's perfect; really, I love it. Thank you."

Marlene beamed, leaning to grab her make-up bag. "Phase two begins now, and James has to go away now."

He very nearly pouted, but managed to transform it into a childish whine before it appeared. "Why?"

"Because I said so. Go on; off you trot."

Tail between his legs – or antlers hung, he supposed was more appropriate – he headed over to sit with Sirius and Remus. It might have felt weird having a marauder meeting at a _homework _table, but they'd managed to stumble across so many genuinely weird places to have conversations – the Honeydukes store room, the Potions store cupboard, in trees, under a table at the Three Broomsticks and, of course, the Shrieking Shack – that it no longer really occurred to him. "Hullo."

"Been kicked out of girls' corner, have you?"

"Kicked into it, more like; you mopey bastard."

Sirius pouted and sat up a bit, stretching in his chair. "I was just saying how I don't really give two shits about the moral implications of dragon farming. At least, I don't give two shits about writing an essay on it. It's going to happen anyway, regardless of whether an entire seventh-year class does their homework or not."

Remus looked up, amused. "If you don't care about it, Padfoot, then why did you take Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Everybody else was," he said, "and it's a doss exam. And a doss lesson, usually. Besides, I do care about some magical creatures. Some of 'em, at least." He reached across to Remus's hair, ruffling it up with a light smirk on his face. "I love some of them _so bloody much_."

"I'll bite you," warned Remus, smiling down at his essay – clearly, Remus Lupin wasn't about to bite anybody. It really only meant anything more than that to the three of them and Peter, though; that was, of course, why he'd said it. "Either that or I'll retract my offer of helping you with your essay."

"Oh, don't," James said, giving Sirius a look. "Let him do it himself. He can write about how futile he thinks writing about it is, and Professor Grubbly-Plank will either love it or put him in detention for it. It'll be fun; we can take bets either way."

Of course, he'd phrased that deliberately to provoke Sirius, and it worked. "Challenge accepted," said Sirius, and grabbed a spare quill and sheet of parchment of Remus's to start on with it straight away. There was no way to motivate Sirius quite like threatening his ego; that knowledge was really the advantage that Professor McGonagall had over any of his other teachers. She understood his competitive ego, and she tapped into it. You had to hand it to the woman – she was good at her job. The other professors hardly knew where to begin when Sirius got going, but McGonagall threw his snark and his banter right back at him, and it made him respect her. Not only that, but earning Sirius's respect was also like earning the respect of a whole host of younger wannabes. James wasn't sure if she'd thought about that when she initially tried to win him over, but if she had, then… boy, she was good. She was _very_ good. Almost like a marauder; she even had the animagus form ready to go.

No; that was a bad thought. No, no. Better think about something else.

"When's Pete back? He's going to miss dinner if he doesn't come soon."

As if on cue, the portrait swung open; in stumbled Peter Pettigrew with a sheepish grin on his face. It was the kind of face that had resigned itself to playful teasing and kissy faces – but it was also the kind of face that didn't really care, and it was nice for James to see. He shifted over to make room, smirking and pushing his shoulder. "Where've you been, Romeo?"

"Hi," was all he managed. "Uh… sorry. Yes. Grounds. With-"

"Carly Cameron," Sirius interrupted playfully. "Yeah. We can tell. When's it due?"

James threw him a look, aware Peter was way too distracted to understand what he was talking about. He struggled to get what Sirius meant a lot of the time anyway. "She alright?"

He nodded, blushing a bit, and tried to change the subject. "What did I miss? It's all… talky in here."

Sirius snorted; it set Remus off laughing quietly too. "Talky?"

"You know what I mean – something's going on. I think, anyway."

Feeling merciful, Remus cut in before Sirius could make something up. "The dare aeroplanes-"

"Dareoplanes," Sirius interrupted, but he was ignored.

"The _dare aeroplanes_ fell and one of them hit Lily, so she's joining in now. Marlene's giving her a makeover that she has to wear to dinner. It's going to be fairly tame, we imagine, but James isn't allowed to look. He's been banished."

Peter craned his neck to have a look, wrinkling his nose. "It certainly _looks_ fairly tame. We could have had so much fun with that."

"I _know_," Sirius agreed, pleased to have someone on his side – not, of course, that he often had a lack of people on his side. "Prongs could have picked anyone to do it but he went soft on her. I was thinking lingerie; writing on her face…"

Keen to be out of the line of fire, James smirked and pushed up his glasses. "I'm not the only one who's gone soft over a girl recently."

"Yeah; at least mine's my girlfriend," Peter retorted; James snickered and pulled him into a headlock, wrestling him gently, eventually backed by Sirius. "Ouch; guys! Two on one; not fair…" Remus stayed out of it, getting along with his work until eventually the common room unsettled itself, marking dinnertime.

Marlene and Lily seemed to be on the wrong angle for James to see the result of the makeover all the way down to the Great Hall – whether that was deliberate or not, he wasn't sure. Either way, he had to wait a while before catching a glimpse of her; when he did, though, he felt as though he'd been leading up to a huge disappointment. Marlene was good at make-up, and no doubt about it, but… well. It was too much.

"Alright, Prongs," Sirius said, leaning across the table to get a better look with a broad grin on his face. "I give. She's not just a random ginger. I see it. Ugly duckling style."

"Sirius!"

"Sorry, Moony. Okay; correction. Plain duckling style."

As Remus continued his rebuking, James took another look. No, it still wasn't any better. It was nice; he wasn't recoiling in horror or anything, and on someone like Marlene, it would have been perfect. There was a thick layer of eyeliner traced on both her upper and lower lids, and a blue and green blend of eye-shadow – "To bring out her eyes,", Lena was explaining some way down the table – right up to her brow. Her mascara was thick and heavy, and borderline overbearing; on her lips, a rosy pink. It just wasn't the sort of thing you expected to see on Lily Evans – Marlene may not have given Lily her hair, but she had certainly given her her face.

"Are you still staring?" Sirius teased, the ugly duckling situation finally settled. "Christ. Pervert."

"No; it's not that."

Remus understood, even if Sirius didn't. "You don't like it?"

He tipped his head from side to side, not wanting to say anything outright. After all, she looked quite pleased with it; there was a lovely wide smile on her face, and she'd flushed pink with the attention. Actually, maybe that was just another layer of Marlene's make-up. "It's… different."

"Are you mad?" said Sirius. "It's sexy. She looks all grown up."

"She looks," James said, "like Marlene. And Marlene is lovely too, but Lily is Lily."

Peter squinted down, trying to listen in over the usual loud conversations you got in the Great Hall. "Well, she seems to like it," he reasoned. "It's good to fit in sometimes. That's what everybody wants, really, isn't it?"

"I'd rather be James Potter than Joe Bloggs."

"Well, yeah," said Remus, smiling apologetically, "but Joe Bloggs would rather be James Potter."

"Exactly," Peter agreed. "And maybe Lily Evans would rather be… you know. Normal, sometimes."

James looked sideways at her, trying to get the measure of the situation. He certainly hoped it wasn't true, but he knew they had a point. Lily was well-liked, but she certainly didn't conform to trends or even common behaviour. She wasn't very much like the other girls, but he really liked that. Far from understanding Peter's point, he just couldn't imagine why anybody would just want to blend in with the crowd. Sure, he wanted to be liked, but you didn't have to be a cookie-cutter teenager to be liked. Remus wasn't; Peter certainly wasn't. A small part of him acknowledged that their friendship with him and Sirius had a lot to do with their popularity, but he didn't like to think that.

None of it really mattered, though. He just hoped Lily wouldn't fall for it all. She had it all sorted out for herself just as she was, and she didn't need to change a thing.

"Maybe," he judged, obviously still undecided.

Sirius tutted and took the opportunity to nick a few potatoes from James's plate; the fact that this didn't cause a row worried him slightly, so he pushed his shoulder gently. "Not like it matters. There's no way she'll be arsed to wear it every day, and if she does you can… I don't know. Grow a pair and nick them from her bathroom. And she's playing now, so you can probably dare her to shag you or something."

"_Padfoot_," Remus rebuked again, but it had made James laugh, so neither of them particularly minded really.

"Alright, mate; alright." He reached to steal a bit of chicken from Sirius's plate, grinning at the reaction he got. Sirius took meat – chicken in particular – very seriously since his transformation, and it was quite fun to prod at that. As usual, though, they got a few stern looks from McGonagall, and after that dinner was over far too soon.

With the Christmas party being almost solely the responsibility of the head boy and girl this year, he and Lily had decided to get a head-start; they had made plans earlier in the day to meet back in their common room after dinner. Had it been anybody else getting the makeover and the attention, James might have expected her to have forgotten, but… this was Lily. Lily put elephants' memories to shame. Sure enough, she reached their private common room a few minutes after he did.

"Surprised you remembered, Potter," she said, obviously trying her hardest to make it sound like nothing was any different.

"Like I'd pass up the chance," he said playfully, pulling the table a little more towards the middle so that they could both reach it from their armchairs. "And I really do like your hair, you know."

She rolled her eyes. "Not the make-up, then?"

"I didn't say that. It's nice."

Lily sat down, summoning some parchment and a quill. "Thank you, then."

"You'll keep playing, right?"

Their eyes met for a few moments, and she sighed at him, more amused than annoyed. "Maybe. Depends what kind of ridiculous ideas you've written on the rest of them."

"I have brilliant ideas!"

"Prove it; plan this ball with me."

He grinned, rubbing the back of his neck and flushing slightly. "Yeah, alright. Touché." Really, he couldn't complain; even if Lily had turned into some sort of not-herself Marlene hybrid for the evening, she was actually playing along with the game now. Not only that, but she'd just taken a compliment from him without punching him in the arm or throwing him a withering look. As far as he was concerned, that was progress – good progress, too.

"Potter," she said, "if you don't stop daydreaming and start helping me, I'm going to be forced to steal your Quidditch Captain badge."

"That," he replied, "is unnecessary and harsh."

"Pay attention."

He grinned, shuffling in his seat and leaning forward to start sketching a diagram of the Great Hall. Life was definitely good right now.


End file.
